Strength
by TheTrainTicket
Summary: Was Alister just another mask?  Would Marik ever replace him, just like that, if someone new came along?


_For bakuraXryou4everluv's crack pairing contest. And to show that Midriffshipping is _not_ complete fluff…_

**Strength**

The rain pounded down against the streets. A bolt of lightning struck, its follower thunder was not far behind.

He didn't think he could possibly be more soaked. The droplets that had been absorbed by his clothes now bounced off the wet material. His skin itched badly but he didn't move, except to turn his head up and see the other boy standing in front of him.

Alister stood there patiently with the knife in his hand. Cuts scattered along his fingers and Marik could only imagine how irritating those were.

He wanted to move. He just wanted to run up to Alister and make this whole thing disappear.

_Why are you doing this?_

Just forget this night ever happened…

_Because you said you were strong…_

And be lovers again…

_But you're not strong._

Alister was new. Alister made him forget.

_You hide behind other people, Marik._

There wasn't any pain with Alister. He wasn't there when Marik's life fell into chaos. Alister.

_Why?_

_Why…_

Finally, Marik turned his gaze away. He couldn't look anymore. Alister with a knife… brought back…

_Daddy with a knife…_

_Hot burning knife…_

_Feel it carve out your skin._

A scream made its way out of Marik's throat. It was a stifled, bitter scream, worn down by his lack of energy. It felt forced rather than natural, but he let it out anyways. All of this was just too much to bear.

This sort of thing didn't happen with Alister.

Alister was good. Alister cared. They completed each other.

_So why…_

"Alister…" Marik's voice was cracked and hardly even audible. But Alister's head tilted in acknowledgement.

Alister…

He had left his home seeking revenge after the death of his brother.

Marik had left his home seeking revenge after the death of his father.

But Alister was much more assertive. He had hardly any help, with the exception of Dartz, but even without that, he still would've gone after Kaiba.

Marik hid behind Rishid. And then he hid behind his Rare Hunters. He hid behind that girl Tea, and behind Bakura, and most importantly, he hid behind himself. He bundled his fists at the thought that his second personality – his _own creation_ – could stand on his own.

_And even at the very end, Marik had needed Rishid to overthrow him…_

He needed a mask… and never show his real face.

Alister was right.

Marik wasn't strong.

Hadn't that been the attraction, though? Alister was the new person Marik now hid behind. Isn't that what he wanted, though?

Marik wasn't replacing Alister's brother; he was just… filling the gap.

He didn't want to be on his own. He wanted to be protected. He was _always _protected… why couldn't he stay this way?

_Marik, if something happened to me, what would you do? _

Was Alister just another mask? Would Marik ever replace him, just like that, if someone new came along?

That was _why._

"Alister…" he repeated. He kept his eyes locked on the face of the boy in front of him, trying to refrain from looking at that knife. "If you ever loved me at all… just stop…"

The redhead blinked.

Another bolt of lightning struck down, announcing that the storm was far from over.

Marik wrapped his arms tighter into his stomach, trying to cease his shivering. He still kept his head up, watching Alister's every move.

Finally, the redhead lowered his arm, but just slightly. He dropped the knife, and it landed harshly in a nearby puddle.

"You're pathetic, Marik. You truly are." With that, Alister turned around and headed back to his motorcycle. Driving in this sort of weather condition was insanity, especially at night, but staying outside wasn't an option.

Marik remained kneeling, staring at the knife.

It lay in the puddle, almost helplessly, so to speak. Knives, guns… little weapons that affected the world in such huge ways.

Marik was like that knife in the puddle. He had the potential to do such great damage, to be a weapon of terror. It demanded fear just as Marik demanded love.

_Alister, if you ever loved me… and maybe if I ever loved you…_

So he was stuck between being a tool for destruction, or just helpless in a puddle.

And maybe that's why Alister cared so much.

Without another thought, Marik picked himself off the ground, cringing slightly as his bruises cried out to him. But he headed over to Alister and climbed on the back of the motorcycle. He held on tightly as the redhead drove them both home.


End file.
